Why Small Groups?/Fellowship Rediscovered
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<< 1. Before you read further, write a definition of biblical fellowship in the space below using your own words.>> | << 1. Before you read further, write a definition of biblical fellowship in the space below using your own words.>> | ||
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In the heart of Charleston, South Carolina stands an old church building. Bright stained glass offsets the solemnity of heavy red brick. Inside, pictures of Jesus and other biblical figures etched in glass filter the light of the worship place. A handcarved altar piece reaches to the vaulted ceiling. Someone gave great attention to detail in designing and building this house of worship. Above the entrance, inlaid in the brick, is a cross—the symbol and heart of Christendom for 2,000 years. But times have changed, and the need for a house of worship has been replaced in Charleston’s tourist district by the need for prime restaurant space. So today the former Church of the Redeemer has been<br>transformed into the Mesa Grill. The church’s name, carved in a marble placard at the sidewalk entrance, looks as if someone has tried to sand-blast it away. In the glass case that once announced activities and the weekly sermon, there now hangs today’s menu. Where hardwood pews once filled the worship space, upholstered booths sit among potted plants. Rock music pulsates through the atmosphere; Sting has replaced Handel as nachos have replaced communion bread. None of the patrons seem particularly aware of the incongruity of the place.<br> | In the heart of Charleston, South Carolina stands an old church building. Bright stained glass offsets the solemnity of heavy red brick. Inside, pictures of Jesus and other biblical figures etched in glass filter the light of the worship place. A handcarved altar piece reaches to the vaulted ceiling. Someone gave great attention to detail in designing and building this house of worship. Above the entrance, inlaid in the brick, is a cross—the symbol and heart of Christendom for 2,000 years. But times have changed, and the need for a house of worship has been replaced in Charleston’s tourist district by the need for prime restaurant space. So today the former Church of the Redeemer has been<br>transformed into the Mesa Grill. The church’s name, carved in a marble placard at the sidewalk entrance, looks as if someone has tried to sand-blast it away. In the glass case that once announced activities and the weekly sermon, there now hangs today’s menu. Where hardwood pews once filled the worship space, upholstered booths sit among potted plants. Rock music pulsates through the atmosphere; Sting has replaced Handel as nachos have replaced communion bread. None of the patrons seem particularly aware of the incongruity of the place.<br> | ||
| + | === Rediscovering Biblical Fellowship === | ||
| - | + | As the title of this chapter announces, this is an essay about fellowship, and the Mesa Grill is an apt metaphor for what has happened to the practice of Christian relationship in the church today. We’ve kept the term and turned it into something that doesn’t even vaguely represent what it means to the one who defined it. Fellowship is like that old church building. People have started using the term to describe ways of relating never intended for this precious communion of the saints. And because God created the practice, we’d better make sure we use it in the way he designed it–because God isn’t putting fellowship up for sale. Remember what happened when Jesus found the Temple being used as a place to turn a profit?<br> | |
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Revision as of 21:48, 27 March 2008
Chapter Two: Fellowship Rediscovered
John Loftness
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<< 1. Before you read further, write a definition of biblical fellowship in the space below using your own words.>>
In the heart of Charleston, South Carolina stands an old church building. Bright stained glass offsets the solemnity of heavy red brick. Inside, pictures of Jesus and other biblical figures etched in glass filter the light of the worship place. A handcarved altar piece reaches to the vaulted ceiling. Someone gave great attention to detail in designing and building this house of worship. Above the entrance, inlaid in the brick, is a cross—the symbol and heart of Christendom for 2,000 years. But times have changed, and the need for a house of worship has been replaced in Charleston’s tourist district by the need for prime restaurant space. So today the former Church of the Redeemer has been
transformed into the Mesa Grill. The church’s name, carved in a marble placard at the sidewalk entrance, looks as if someone has tried to sand-blast it away. In the glass case that once announced activities and the weekly sermon, there now hangs today’s menu. Where hardwood pews once filled the worship space, upholstered booths sit among potted plants. Rock music pulsates through the atmosphere; Sting has replaced Handel as nachos have replaced communion bread. None of the patrons seem particularly aware of the incongruity of the place.
Rediscovering Biblical Fellowship
As the title of this chapter announces, this is an essay about fellowship, and the Mesa Grill is an apt metaphor for what has happened to the practice of Christian relationship in the church today. We’ve kept the term and turned it into something that doesn’t even vaguely represent what it means to the one who defined it. Fellowship is like that old church building. People have started using the term to describe ways of relating never intended for this precious communion of the saints. And because God created the practice, we’d better make sure we use it in the way he designed it–because God isn’t putting fellowship up for sale. Remember what happened when Jesus found the Temple being used as a place to turn a profit?
